


Cots for the Bedroom

by propheticfire



Series: Elysian Fields [5]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domesticity, Fluff, M/M, exposition abounds, springtime, too much backstory to really call it fluff but, with a side of angsty backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 16:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16538234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propheticfire/pseuds/propheticfire
Summary: Dogma didn’t ask for much, but now that spring had come around again, he really hoped he could find a way to not sleep on the floor anymore.





	Cots for the Bedroom

To get:  


  * cots for the bedroom
  * kitchen table
  * kitchen chairs
  * shower curtain
  * more ‘fresher towels
  * window curtains  




 

Dogma circled the top one. They were already ranked in order of priority, but circling it seemed to put it even further up the list. In the almost year they’d been at the cottage, they’d managed to get the power running—solar and geothermal, restart the well for water, patch up the cracks in the walls and roof, scrub each room from top to bottom, sort through the assorted cooking utensils they’d found in the cupboards, dust off the farm tools in the nearby barn, and even acquire a couch. They’d discovered a small farming village, nearly a day’s walk from the cottage, and had been taking turns walking into town to work, staying a week at a time and then returning to switch off. The tapcaf manager had eventually taken pity on them and talked to the owner of the wheat fields near their cottage, who agreed to lease out one of his speeders in exchange for tending the fields. The speeder cut the travel time to town down to a much more manageable hour. Between the field work, the odd jobs in town, and fixing the cottage, Dogma and Fives hardly slept, but then they were used to that. And they’d earned enough credits and favors to start furnishing the space. When winter fell on the farms, halting most of the work, they’d shut themselves up in the cottage, venturing out only to replenish their food supply. They took turns sleeping on the couch.

Dogma didn’t ask for much, but now that spring had come around again, he really hoped he could find a way to not sleep on the floor anymore.

He set the list back down on the counter and reached for the window latch. Cool, crisp air burst into the kitchen as he slid the window open. There was still some snow on the ground outside, but the late morning sun shone brightly down, and little blue flowers were pushing their heads up all along the edges of the cottage. Dogma breathed deeply. After having been locked up tight for so many months, the rush of air through the window seemed to bring the cottage to life. He quickly went through the house, opening all the windows. The cottage seemed to breathe with him, drawing in the crystal clear spring air. For a moment, it was almost overwhelming. So unlike anything he’d felt before. He couldn’t put words to it.

He made his way into the bedroom. The last room whose window needed opening. They’d hardly used this room all winter, save to store their wardrobe— _wardrobe!—_ in its closet. He lingered for a moment in the empty space. Where would they put the cots? The room wasn’t long enough to arrange them at a 90-degree angle in a corner. They could put one against the wood paneling of the wall shared by the kitchen, and one opposite that against the stone of the outer wall, under the window. But that would be so cold, especially in winter, and impractical if they wanted the window open. They could put both cots together _facing_ the window, with their heads against the kitchen wall. But that really depended on how much of Dogma’s company Fives was willing to stand.

They did stay near each other, when they were both at the cottage. And they’d spent nearly the entire winter at the cottage. _In_ the cottage. And it had…had its tense moments. Despite everything, Dogma still felt the acute shame of his actions during his first—and only—mission with Fives. And he knew Fives hadn’t forgotten. But Fives had also been the one to save him from his inhibitor chip-induced nightmare, and Dogma would never forget _that._ Fives had been with him every step of the journey since then. Fives was…well, _stable_ wasn’t the right word. But he was there. He was…constant. Just like each item they added to the cottage gave the whole house a sense of permanence, Fives’ constant presence was starting to feel like a permanent fixture in Dogma’s life.

It scared the hell out of him.

Sigil. Sigil had been… Important. Was the only word he’d let himself use to describe Sigil. And when they were growing up on Kamino, it had seemed like they’d never be parted. But they were. Of course. The war hadn’t cared who was batch brothers with whom, or how much one of them had cared about another. The war didn’t even care what the regulations said. And up until he’d joined the 501st, and even after, the knowledge that he’d prioritized the regs over the orders of his sergeant wouldn’t let him rest. That had been the op where Sigil died. Seared into his memory.

He’d vowed two things to himself then. One, that he would listen to the orders he was given, even if he couldn’t always see what their purpose was. And two, that he wouldn’t let himself get close to anyone again. And then, of course, he’d met Tup. He hadn’t wanted to feel like that. But Tup’s quiet exuberance was like a balm to his heart, and he couldn’t help himself. And then Umbara had happened. Umbara had gone sideways in so many different ways, and when it was all said and done he’d been on the wrong end of both vows he’d made to himself. And then, as though that weren’t enough, he’d eventually learned that Tup had died too. So that was it. That was the end of it. He wouldn’t—he _couldn’t_ —care about someone like that again.

_“Dogma! Hey, I’m back! Dogma are you in the house?”_

But here was Fives.

Fives could never know how Dogma was starting to feel.

“Dogma? It’s breezy in here; did you open the windows? Dogma!”

Fives appeared in the bedroom doorway as Dogma slid the last window open. _“There_ you are! Come outside; I need your help with something.” Fives was grinning, and trying to hide it. He kept making little beckoning motions.

Dogma’s brow furrowed as he slowly followed Fives back through the house. “What have you been up to? I thought you were in town all day.”

“I was in town, yeah, but I came back early. Because I got _this.”_

Fives walked out the front door and stepped out of Dogma’s line of sight, revealing their speeder in the yard. And secured to the back—

“Is that a _mattress?”_

Fives bounded toward the speeder. “Come on! Help me get it inside.”

Dogma helped Fives unload the mattress and carry it inside. It was large, at least twice as wide as a standard clone bunk, maybe more. They leaned it against the wall in the bedroom, then Fives beckoned Dogma back out to the speeder to retrieve the wooden boards of a low but sturdy bed frame and a bundle of bedding.

“Where did you even get this?” Dogma asked, as they assembled the bed frame.

“Old Lady Biddle finally passed away, last month. Tam Biddle said his mom wanted us to have this. They’ve been saving it until we could make it back into town.”

They hoisted the mattress onto the bed frame, and Dogma shook the bedding out of the sack it was in. Two pillows, soft plaid sheets and matching pillowcases, and a puffy comforter. He and Fives quickly made the bed. Dogma hung onto a corner of the comforter after they’d draped it over the top. Something about the color. Not quite, but _almost—_

“Five-Oh-First blue. Yeah I know.” Fives’ voice was soft. “What a coincidence.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Then Fives made for the bedroom door. “I’m gonna go park the speeder and I’ll be right back. And then I’m gonna test this out. I don’t know about you but I was getting real sick of sleeping on the floor.”

He vanished out the doorway. Dogma followed, more slowly, making his way back to the kitchen. His list still sat on the counter. He picked up a stylus, and then quickly and deliberately made a single slash through “cots for the bedroom”. it gave him more satisfaction than it probably should have. Nodding to himself, he tucked the list back into the basket that was quickly accumulating odds and ends.

The moment could have ended there, a nice cathartic button to the morning’s events. But Fives came breezing back into the house, kicking off his shoes and all but running down the hall toward the bedroom. “Dogma come on!” he called out. “I wanna see how we both fit!” Dogma ambled back to the bedroom, where Fives had already shed his jacket and crawled under the covers. He let out a satisfied groan. Dogma made his way around to the other side. They had, in fact, ended up placing the bed with their heads against the kitchen wall, facing the window to the backyard. Slowly, he peeled back the covers on his side and slid under them.

After almost a year of the couch and the floor, after _over_ a year without a proper cot or bunk, after an _entire_ _lifetime_ of never having lain on something so soft and yielding, Dogma’s body sank into the mattress as though it were salvation. Tension he didn’t even know he had flowed from his limbs into the bedding. He thought he might have uttered a sound not unlike Fives’ groan, but he couldn’t even be sure of that, so lost was he in the sensation.

“Yeah,” Fives said breathlessly. “Yeah we’re not giving this up.”

Fives might have said something else after that, about getting up to shut the window because it was still chilly, but Dogma was already well on his way to sleep. Distantly though, he felt the slight pressure of Fives’ head coming to rest against his shoulder. His mouth curled of its own accord into a small, sleepy smile. C _ots for the bedroom_ ; what had he been thinking?


End file.
